


Can't find a better man

by Crocuta



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Because of Reasons, FTM jimmy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 03:43:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1413820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crocuta/pseuds/Crocuta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Thomas finds out one of Jimmy's biggest secrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't find a better man

“Up for a game later, Jimmy?” Thomas's tone was cautiously hopeful. They usually played a hand or two before bed, but Thomas never wanted to assume anything of Jimmy.

The footman peered out from the silver cabinet, swallowing a bit of the flip-flop his stomach did. “Of course, Thomas. I can't let you wining yesterday go to your head – now can I?”

The under- butler gave a mock sniff. “I'd win more often if you weren't piling aces in your sleeve.”

Jimmy snorted and picked up another fork. Just in time too, Mr. Carson swept through The Hall – his eyebrow ready to raise at the slightest sight of laziness.

“I trust you're hard at work, Mr. Barrow?”

 

“Of course Mr. Carson. I was telling James here that the silver had better be polished better than it was before yesterday's service. I could have sworn I saw a spot.” Thomas flicked his eyes from Carson to Jimmy.  
  
Jimmy fought down a laugh and bent down to polish a teakettle to keep Carson from spying his face.  
  
“Oh dear me. Alfred did the silver yesterday, you can be certain I will have a word.” Carson waved his hand at Jimmy as though clear Thomas's faux-beradement away. “I'm sure young James is up to the task.”  
  
“Oh yes Mr. Carson.”  
  
  
  


  
  
  
That night cards didn't happen. It wasn't too terribly a strange occurrence that Thomas or Jimmy would get wrapped up with something and apologize over toast in the morning. The under-butler was starting to get sick of waiting. He stretched popped his back at the table, much to the disgust of Mr. Mosely who did not try to hide his scrunched nose.  
“Mind doin' that where I don't gotta hear it?” Mosely was only brave enough to say something because there was a woman on his arms.  
  


“Mind keeping you're face away from me where I don't have to see it?” Thomas responded with a little more venom than he normally would have wasted on that trainwreck of a man.  
  
“Moody as ever without your shadow,” Baxter said mildly over her sewing. There was no knowing tone of O'Brien once had whenever she spoke to him about Jimmy. Just bluntness, her energy wouldn't be wasted on him of all people.

 

 

He had gotten a bit more mild-mannered hadn't he? Thomas tossed his lighter and cigarette case onto his dresser. When his head hit the pillow he couldn't help replaying Baxter's words.  
If _she_ of all people thought Jimmy had somehow impacted his mood what did the rest of the house think? He turned over and pulled the pillow tight to his chest. It wasn't like what they thought mattered anyway, he respected Jimmy and his willingness to find friendship between them. Best not start reading too deeply into things that didn't matter.  


 

  
Thomas was pulled from a luxuriously comfortable sleep by banging downstairs. Had some sort of burglar pushed their way into the kitchens and knocked something over in the night?  
Thomas stuffed himself into his blue dressing robe and poked his head outside the door.  
  


He wasn't the only one who was woken up by the loud noises coming from downstairs. He heard Jimmy's raised voice drowned out by Mrs. Hughes.   
  
“Now, now Jimmy you should really get yourself onto bed. You'll be feeling that in the morning.”  
  
Thomas's breathing even with the threat of danger gone. He wasn't going to have to defend the house by whacking someone over the head with Bates's cane. He shooed Alfred and Daisy back to bed.  
  
“Oh thank goodness, Mr. Barrow.” Hughes looked positively exhausted. Her hair was bound in tight curlers and her robe was pulled tightly around herself. Her tone was significantly less warm and maternal than usual “It seems James needs a bit of coaxing to get upstairs and cleaned up.”  
  
Thomas chewed on his tongue. Jimmy might not be too thrilled with him helping to bed come morning, but Mrs. Hughes was clearly not going to debate the matter. “Thank you Mr. Barrow.”  
  
  
Jimmy had his hat on his face and his arse parked beside the fire.  
“I don't care what you say, I'm not getting up all of Downton is spinning.” The little bit of Jimmy's face Thomas could see was a sickly shade of green.  
  
“Mrs. Patmore will be down here soon to cook breakfast, it might be a little loud.” Thomas pointed out. Jimmy flicked his hat onto his lap.  
  
“What if I don't care?”  
  
“Then I'm sure the smell of burning toast will make you puke your guts up.” Thomas couldn't help but to laugh at how fast that made Jimmy get up. The poor lad already was covered in enough of his vomit and drink. Thomas never gotten the youthful bug to drink himself to excess. The idea made him feel as old as his stray gray hairs did.  
  
Jimmy draped his arms against Thomas's shoulders and leaned against him heavily. Thomas heaved Jimmy to his feet and carefully lead him up the stairs in the dark. Jimmy flung himself face down on the bed.  
  
“Thanks,” Jimmy grunted into his pillow.  
  
“You can't sleep like that Jimmy.” Thomas dug through Jimmy's top drawer and pulled out a sleeping shirt. “You're going to need to wash up and change. Unless you like having sick in your hair.”  


Jimmy _tried_ to stand, but instead fell flat on his ass. Thomas couldn't stand seeing Jimmy such a mess and falling all over himself. He tossed the pajamas over his shoulder and grabbed a damp cloth from the beside-basin.   
  
“Now sit still you drunk lump.”  
  
Thomas did his best to pick out dried vomit from Jimmy's hair. The scent of sweat and drink mixed with it was enough to make Thomas gag. If Jimmy didn't let him win at blackjack tomorrow he was going to kill him.  
  
“Get your shirt, I've got a clean one here.”  


Jimmy snatched the shirt from Thomas's hands. “I've got it from here,” he held tightly against himself and scooted away from Thomas.  
  
Thomas recoiled as though slapped. After all this time, Jimmy was still frightened of Thomas in _that_ way. He'd rather Jimmy yell, threaten him with fists. Absolutely anything except for staring at him with desperate terror. Thomas felt a lump forming in his throat. He hadn't dare make any advance on Jimmy after finding out that the footman wanted nothing with him, and he reveled in their friendship that had form. He assumed he disgusted Jimmy and hardened himself against that fact, but he never in a thousand years thought that Jimmy was frightened of him.   
  
“Suit yourself then. I'll be in my room if you need anything, just give a holler.” Thomas couldn't bring himself to look at Jimmy, and instead left silently and locked himself in his room.  
  
  


Sleep didn't come easily for Thomas. He buried his head under his pillow to try and flush the image of Jimmy's fear from his mind. He always gave Jimmy his space, he even made sure to sit across from Jimmy at dinner so not even their elbows would touch. Thomas couldn't think of a single moment where he overstepped his boundaries after all those years ago. In fact he was quiet proud of himself for silently enduring his feelings for Jimmy and not letting them interfere with the friendship they now had. Whenever he felt particularly miserable it there was nicotine and strawberry jam to nurse him through it.  
  
But he had caused Jimmy to look at him like that. Because O'Brien was a scheming wench and that he hadn't read the signs closely enough, he had made Jimmy afraid of him. He was too ashamed of himself to spill any tears, instead he curled up against the wall and stared off in anguish.

 

 

  
  
“You look like shit this morning, Thomas.”  
  


The under-butler miserably looked up from his toast, but said nothing. He was grateful for Mrs. Hughes who sighed at the footman. “That's probably because you woke up the entire house and he helped get you upstairs. You decided it was a marvelous idea to knock over every chair coming in.”  
  
Alfred sniggered into his porridge.  
  
“Right. Sorry about that.”  
  


Jimmy caught Thomas's eye, but only managed a weak smile out of him.  
  
  
Thomas did his best to stay out of Jimmy's way. It was hard to stuff down old habits of popping outside with him for a smoke and tricking into Daisy to give them some of whatever she was cooking because it was for “someone upstairs, didn't you hear them ringing?” He stayed upstairs sorting through the linens leaving the footmen and hall boys to their own devices.  
  
“What's with you today Thomas?” Jimmy said from the stairs. “I didn't puke on you did I?”  
  
Thomas wished it something that a shower, a change of clothes, and a good laugh could fix.  
“No Jimmy, not on me anyway.” He did his best to smile and play it off so he could find a new hiding place.  
  
Jimmy wrinkled his nose. “Then what makes you look like the time you dropped your toast jam-side down again?”  
  
Thomas drew a breath let it out slowly. Jimmy was too stubborn to put off for long, best get it done quick like a bandage.  
  
“You seemed quite afraid of me last night. I thought it best to stay out of your way a while.”  
  
Jimmy snorted and put a hand at his side. “Scared of _you_? Are you imaging things?”   
  
Thomas narrowed his eyes. “You certainly were acting afraid. You were covered in vomit and I told you to change before you got to bed, and you got quite upset with me.”  
  
  
Jimmy reflexively swallowed. He hadn't remembered any of that. “And did you see me without my shirt?” His voice full of horror. 

  
Thomas slammed the linen cabinet closed. He wished Jimmy would accuse him, act angry, anything but  _this_ timid Jimmy he was so unused to seeing. “No. I haven't made any motions at you since you threatened me. I don't why you're so afraid of me doing so.” He took a step back from the footman. “I thought you'd know me well enough by now to know that I value our friendship.” 

  
“No, no, no.” Jimmy was shaking his head. “I trust you Thomas.” the last four words were weighted with something Thomas couldn't pick up on.  
  


“Carson will have my head if I'm not downstairs soon. I promise, look at me, I promise I'll explain it to you tonight.”   
  
  
  
  


Thomas went upstairs two full cigarettes after Jimmy had headed to bed. He knocked softly on the door and was startled by Jimmy who quick opened it and pulled him in by the wrist. Jimmy closed his door and shoved the back of the chair under the knob.  
  
  


“If I tell you what was bothering me, do you _swear_ you won't breathe a word of this to another living soul?” Jimmy was strangely serious for once. The lack of grin unnerved Thomas, the heaviest moments under the roof of Downton were made lighter by Jimmy. It felt like Thomas was in the room with a dying man saying his last words. “I promise Jimmy, whatever you tell me won't leave this room.” They shook on it. “I swear if you say something Thomas I'll – I'll” Jimmy tried to think of a big enough threat. 

  
“I swear, on Lady Sybil. You may not have know her – but she was one of my only friends here for a long time.” That seemed to placate Jimmy. He crossed over to check and see if the curtains were drawn all the way. He stood across from Thomas who took a seat at the foot of his bed.  
  
“You think you know who I am,” Jimmy's voiced tightened. His hands nervously pulled off his shirt, Thomas averted his gaze out of modesty. “I think you best take a look Thomas. Heavens knows you won't be looking twice at me now.”  
  
  
Thomas had expected bullet scars, puckered points of flesh where shrapnel had to be pulled from flesh. Sickly dead flesh from the flu, pox scars, rashes – Something that marked Jimmy and made him embarrassed and might have fueled his vanity. Anything but what was hanging in front of Thomas's face.

  
  
A pair of breasts. Jimmy's skin was bright red and painfully indented where a bandage had bound them tight to his chest. He dropped his trousers, a smooth expanse of flesh was between his legs.  
  


  
Jimmy took a long, shuddering breath. “I like you – a lot – you know. I didn't want you to...react badly since I'm missing some things that you're interested in.”  
  
Thomas's mind was racing, his unsteady hands lit a cigarette puffed thoughtfully for a moment.  
  
“I see nothing to make you less of a man. ” Thomas let out a puffing smoke from his nostrils. If Jimmy said he was a man that's all there was to it. He wasn't going to argue with something so painfully simple for him to understand. He was attracted to men, Jimmy included. Nothing was different except the way his heart swelled at being trusted with something so important to Jimmy.  
  
  


  
“I think you might be missing a pair of dangly bits in front of your face,” Jimmy's said flatly.

  
Thomas crossed to Jimmy, his hand extended. “May I?” Jimmy nodded, tensing expecting to be assessed and prodded.  
  
Thomas only trailed his fingers over Jimmy's jawline. “I see a man's face.”  
His touch dropped to Jimmy's arms. “A man's muscles.”  
  
He felt Jimmy relax under his hands. “Certainly a man's legs.” The quivering in Jimmy's body was like any other man Thomas had been with.  
  
Jimmy gave a watery laugh, that was more ticklish than he expected.. “They are pretty hairy.”  
  
Thomas leaned and pressed his ear to Jimmy's chest.  
“It's my medical opinion that this is, in fact, a man's heart. Congratulations Jimmy, it's a boy.”  
  
At that Jimmy swatted at Thomas, smiling in spite himself. “Any other person would have yelled their head off knocked me over the head. You are something else Mr. Barrow.”  
  
Thomas sat back down, and to his pleasure Jimmy did as well after he put his shirt back on. The footman slunk his arm over Thomas's shoulder.  
  
“Did you mean what you meant, Jimmy. That you like me?” That was the news that Thomas didn't quite dare believe. He couldn't believe that someone so clever – handsome – _unique_ might hold feelings for him of all people.  
  
  
“A pair of tits out of nowhere and that's what your worried about? Honestly, Thomas.” Jimmy leaned and pressed his lips against Thomas's. Thomas pressed his hand at the back of Thomas's head to crush him closer. Their kiss was full of teeth and grabbing hands and their chests heaving.  
“Of course I do,” Jimmy ran his fingers through the underbutler's hair.  
  
“I love you too.”  
  


 

  
  
No one batted an eyelash when Jimmy started sitting beside Thomas.  
They weren't drug onto the streets when Thomas made tea to Jimmy's liking and blew it cool for him.  
Not even Carson seemed phased when he found Jimmy creeping back to his room one morning, he only commented that he was glad Jimmy was up early to start setting up downstairs.  
It only took one particularly venomous glare to get Alfred to stop commenting about “girls they were being”.  
  
  


  
  


\--

“I hope you don't expect me to wear these,” Jimmy eyed a pair of lace panties on Thomas's bed one night after everyone else had gone to sleep.  
  
Thomas turned to Jimmy and gave a coy grin. “Oh you see, I was thinking I needed a strong man to me out of them.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was really jumpy and staring at it for a few hours didn't fix it. Owell. FTM JIMMY IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE HEADCANONS OK.


End file.
